What We Need
by RaB
Summary: Takes place around 408-409: Brian and Justin must confront their feelings about Brian's cancer, and they each vent in their own ways until finally, they confront each other. Please R&R!


Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination. All characters belong to CowLip, etc.

What We Need

RaB

ll

Justin was quiet when they reached the door of his mother's house, and he hesitated before ringing the bell. He felt his heart sinking as though it hadn't stopped since two days before when he learned of his lover's infirmity. Brian, who was standing next to him and holding a bottle of Chardonnay, did not realize just how much Justin knew. Looking to him, the blonde young man tried to smile but couldn't. He waited a long time for Brian to speak.

"Why are we doing this again?" He asked, his voice was tired and lacked the cutesy sarcasm he intended.

"Because," Justin began, his words almost getting caught in his throat, "my mother wanted to have us over for dinner. Why? Is this too coupley for you?"

Brian cocked his head slightly to the right before smiling gently. Wrapping his strong fingers around the back of Justin's neck, as he often did as a sign of affection, he pulled his lover's face close to his and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

"No," he finally answered, "this is fine. So are you gonna ring the bell or what?"

Justin felt tears welling behind his eyes, but he couldn't allow them to fall because he couldn't let Brian know. It took every bit of his strength to keep from breaking down in front of Brian; he had to be strong. Nodding, he rang the doorbell twice and waited. Molly answered with Jennifer following closely behind.

"Justin!" Molly cried out upon seeing her older brother. She jumped up and wrapped her arms firmly around his neck. He reciprocated the hug and felt an odd strength coursing through him from the love and affection emanating from his little sister.

"Hey, Molly," was all he could manage through her tight grip.

"Jesus, Molly, don't choke your brother, he just got here," Jennifer scolded playfully, giving her son a kiss on the cheek. "Hi, honey."

Justin smiled. "Hey, Mom."

Brian decided it was about time he made his presence known. "Hello, Jen. Molly."

The older woman looked genuinely happy to see Brian, finally acknowledging him as an undeniable part of Justin's life. She, after many years of trying to cope not only with her son's sexuality, but his sordid love affair with a much, much older man, had come to accept his presence in her son's life.

"Hi, Brian. How are you?"

"Just fine," he lied. Justin flinched, but Molly, who was tightly gripping his left hand, failed to notice.

"Oh," Brian suddenly remembered and held out the bottle of wine, "this is for you."

"That's very thoughtful."

"You know me," Brian told her, smirking, "always thinking of others."

"Hm, for a change," Justin joked, almost forgetting for a moment that Brian was sick, and lying, and hiding.

"Okay, well, dinner's just about ready so why don't you take a seat?"

"Molly, you take Brian to the table," Justin instructed, "I'll help Mom." Molly agreed and took Brian's hand without hesitation and led him away.

"She hasn't stopped talking about tonight's visit for two days," Jennifer informed her son when they reached the kitchen. "We don't see nearly enough of you, especially Molly."

"You know me," Justin sighed the words evasively, "busy, busy."

"I understand, what with you starting school again, thank God. How is that going for you? Is it nice to be back?"

"Yeah, I guess. Same old, same old."

"Uh huh. And how about that... what's his name? Cody. Are you still seeing him?"

Justin shook his head as he spooned mashed potatoes into a serving dish. "Nah, we parted ways a couple of weeks ago. He got a little too extreme, even for me."

"I'm glad to hear that, Justin. You gave me a real scare for a while there. I don't know what I'd do if you were ever hurt again."

"Could we not talk about this?" Justin snapped at his mother, and she was taken aback by his sudden, harsh tone. He saw in her face that she knew something was wrong, more than he was letting on, but he couldn't say; he even couldn't tell his mother. Fuck, he wasn't even supposed to know.

"Yeah, yeah, fine, honey," she agreed. "now why don't we take these dishes in?"

Sitting at the round dinner table in between Brian and Molly, two people he loved more than anything, Justin had never felt so uncomfortable. Everything seemed distant, separate, because they were, they all were. No one could possibly understand what he was feeling. The pain, the anger, but mostly the fear. Jennifer had struck a nerve when she mentioned not knowing what to do if she lost Justin because that's exactly how he felt if he lost Brian, his Brian, his everything. Without him, he would be lost, he would be nothing, an empty shell.

Justin was pulled out of his trance when he heard his mom mentioning that both he and Brian had barely eaten. Brian forced a smile and mustered a feeble lie.

"My stomach has been a bit upset since getting back from Ibiza. Probably some bad fruit or something."

"Or something," Justin said quietly, rolling his eyes.

"Well what's your excuse?" Brian asked playfully, resting his hand again on his lover's neck and massaging the sensitive area. Justin merely pushed the salmon around on his plate with his fork.

"Do you not like it?" Jennifer asked.

"No, no, it's great. I'm just not that hungry. Probably stress or something."

"Hm, or something," Brian mumbled teasingly, and Jennifer smiled. Then, thankfully, Brian changed the subject. "So Molly, you're going into high school next year, right?"

She nodded excitedly. "Yeah, I am."

"Do you know where she'll be going yet?" Justin inquired.

Jennifer's face soured when she answered the question. "Well, your father would like her to go to St. James."

"Is that a fucking joke? After what they put me through. That goddamn prick!"

Molly giggled when her brother was scolded by their mother. "Justin! Would you watch your language please? Nothing's been set in stone and believe me, I've made it perfectly clear that I have no intention of sending her there."

"I wouldn't want to go their anyway, Jus," Molly affirmed. "After everything that happened, there's no way that I could go there, even if Daddy wants me too."

Justin smiled and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Thanks, Molly." She smiled broadly in response to his loving gesture. Before either of them got out another word, Brian's cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared for a long moment at his caller ID.

"Shit," he swore under his breath. "Sorry, I have to take this."

Jennifer smiled understandingly. "It's fine, Brian. No rest for the weary."

As Brian stood up from the table and walked into the other room, Justin strained his ears, picking up bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Was it necessary to call my cell... Beginning of next week?... Are there, are there side effects I should know about?... No, I'll be coming alone, I'll find a way to get home..."

The last part made Justin's stomach do a flip, and he thought he would vomit. Taking a long drink of water, he looked at his mother and sister and felt more alone than ever. Knowing that they didn't know, that they didn't have any idea of what was going on, what the man he loved more than anything was putting him through. The only other person who did know was Michael, and some fucking help he was. Though he was probably right, letting Brian know that they knew would only make it worse.

A very upset looking Brian walked back into the dining room and avoided Justin's eyes at all costs. "I'm really sorry but... uh... but there's something I have to take care of. At the office," he added the last phrase to make his excuse seem reasonable, but Justin knew he wouldn't be going to the office. Justin didn't know where the fuck he was going.

More hiding. More secrets. More lies.

"Do you want me to go with? I could keep you company," Justin offered helplessly, hoping that Brian might just let him in.

"No need to ruin the whole night," Brian assured him, obviously too wrapped up in his own dilemma to notice his lover's desperate tone. "You stay here and enjoy the company of your family," he finished, sounding like the total anti-Brian.

"Okay," Justin agreed as if he were trained to do so.

"I'll see you at home?" He asked.

"Yeah, see you later."

Brian smiled at stared down at Justin for a long moment. He leaned in and captured the blonde's lips in a long, tender kiss. Justin ignored his sister's stifled giggles as he kissed his lover back. The burning feeling reemerged in his throat, and he almost choked on unshed tears when Brian pulled back, thanked Jennifer for her hospitality, and left the house.

ll

Brian found that, unsurprisingly, walking for miles after driving the car back to his place did not soothe the throbbing between his legs. And this throbbing was not the pleasant sort that he was used to. The mindless walking had given him, however, besides increased pain, time to think, clear his head a little bit. He thought about starting radiation in a few days, and about what he was going to do about his new baby, Kinnetic, but mostly he thought about Justin. He thought about the possibility of telling him, letting him in. But that would never happen. If he could help it, no one, especially Justin, would ever know.

Before long, Brian found himself in a familiar neighborhood and eventually, in front of an all too familiar house. He knew he shouldn't go up and ring that bell at such an hour, almost eleven. It was rude, inconsiderate, selfish, but since when was Brian Kinney not any of those things? Besides, there was something he needed to do, someone he needed more than anything to see.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Melanie asked when she opened the door to Brian, a look of excruciating irritation on her face.

"Hi Mel," Brian greeted her with mock pleasantry. "Lindsay wouldn't happen to be home, would she?"

The exhausted pregnant woman shook her head. "No, she's out with some people from the gallery, new opening coming up. Said she wouldn't be home till about one. Is there some message I can relay to her for you?"

Brian's heart sank, it was Lindsay that he really wanted to see. "No, that's okay."

Melanie could tell that something was wrong, more wrong than usual, even for Brian. "Is everything okay."

Brian wasn't sure how to answer, he only knew that Melanie didn't really care. "I guess. Is... is Gus sleeping already?"

"Well yes, he's only three, can hardly stay up past nine," Melanie explained.

Brian nodded and swallowed his pride before asking the next question. "Can I see him?"

Melanie, knowing now that something was really off, didn't have the heart, or moral right, to say no. "Of course."

Following Brian upstairs, Melanie watched his catlike movements as he entered his sleeping son's room. She found her heart warming to him despite herself as the man cradled the small boy in his arms, careful not to wake him.

As Brian held his son in his embrace, he suddenly felt attuned to his mortality, like he wasn't so invincible. He had thoughts of what if he never got to hold his baby again, his sweet child that slept blissfully in his arms. He kissed Gus's forehead and pulled him closer to his chest, careful still not to disturb him. Melanie watched in a sort of shock, never having seen Brian looking so incredibly vulnerable before.

"Brian?"

"I didn't... I didn't think I would love him."

"What?"

"I thought I'd jack off in a cup, hand over my cum and that would be it. I'd pop in every now and then, no more than usual anyway. There'd be the occasional birthday or Christmas card and who knew? Maybe I'd even go to a little league game or two. But I never thought I would love him. Not this much. But when Lindsay put him in my arms and I knew, I knew I couldn't help it, that I'd never find anything else in this life that I loved so much. You'll know soon, too, to have something be more a part of you than yourself. My sweet, Sonny Boy..." he trailed off sadly, sounding to Melanie like a scared child.

Melanie curled her fingers over her swollen belly and suddenly felt frightened for Brian. "Brian, is something wrong? Is it something we should know about? Whatever it is, I'm sure that we-"

"No, Mel. It's..." Brian found himself incapable of lying anymore. He was tired of hiding and deceiving. He no longer had the energy or the will.

"I have cancer."

Melanie was overwhelmed. "Christ."

Brian kissed Gus's cheeks and pudgy little hands one last time before placing him back into his bed. Standing, he turned abruptly and left the room without another word to Melanie, who followed him downstairs.

"When did you find out?" She asked.

"A few weeks ago, just after Vic died."

"And you were planning on telling us... when?"

Brian laughed. "Never, if I could help it."

"My God, Brian, that's... God... even for you."

He shrugged. "I'm still surprised at just how shocked you sound. But I suppose it's all part of the- what do you call it- poetic justice. I fuck my brains out every night since I was fourteen so I had a ball removed. Fair's fair."

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't go to Ibiza, or Barcelona, or Madrid; instead, I was having a testicle removed. I know it's been a while since you've seen one but-"

"Don't be a smart ass with me, Brian," Melanie insisted. "You don't drop a bomb like this and then get to be a smart ass."

Rolling his eyes, Brian smiled and asked, "why the fuck do you even care?"

"Of course I care!" Melanie answered, incredulous. "As much as I don't like you, I don't want you sick."

"Gee Mel, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Fuck you, Brian," she said, more upset than she'd like to be. "Lindsay and I are the mothers of your son, we deserve to know!"

"I don't owe you a goddamn thing!" He yelled, suddenly losing what patience and control he had left. "Not you, not Lindsay, not Michael, not Justin-"

"My God," Melanie interrupted his rant, "you haven't told Justin? How can you keep something like this from him, of all people? He's your partner. He loves you more than anything and would want to be there for you."

"He doesn't need to know. This isn't his problem. This isn't for anyone to deal with but me, and I'm taking care of it."

Melanie was beyond speechless. She stood in front of Brian, her fingers absently stroking her stomach as she shook her head. Even she could not believe the lengths he was going to in order to stay in charge. Looking at him, she could tell how worn he was, how close he was to complete collapse. She couldn't imagine going through something like this all alone, and her anger suddenly turned into pity.

"Brian," she said after a long silence, and attempted at reason, "eventually, people are gonna know."

"Not from you, you can't tell, not even Lindsay."

"I wouldn't, not if you don't want me to."

"Well I don't. I don't even want you to know. Guess it's too late for me to take that one back, huh?"

"You're so full of your own bullshit, Brian, you don't even know when your spouting it. If you really didn't want me to know, you wouldn't have told me."

"Well better you than someone who would care enough to treat me like a fucking... victim. It's a good thing I told you so that you could lecture me on how to handle my own fucking disease!"

Melanie's pity took a sudden jolt in the direction of guilt. He was right, who was she to tell him what to do or how to deal?

"Okay, Brian. I won't lecture you. I just hope you aren't doing more damage by keeping it a secret. Please, don't hurt yourself and the people you love and who love you for your pride. It's not worth it."

Exhaling away the urge to make a snarky remark, Brian planted his tongue in his cheek and responded with a mere, "I'll keep that in mind."

Melanie rolled her eyes. "All right, Brian. Do you want me to tell Lindsay anything for you?"

Brian considered this and told her, "just that I stopped by, and we should get together."

"I will." With that, Brian opened the door and walked outside. Despite knowing that she might regret this, Melanie walked onto the stoop after him and called out his name. Brian turned around and waited for her to speak.

"Just... take care of yourself, Brian. Okay? You may think you don't owe me anything, but I still owe you a son."

Shaking his head, Brian said, "no, you owe Mikey a kid, not me."

"You're wrong," Melanie corrected his predictable assumption. "I owe you a son, and that's more than I could ever repay."

Brian nodded, gave her a slight smile of understanding, and began his walk home.

ll

Jennifer filled two glasses of wine and handed one to her son, who was already sitting on the couch. She moved a few throw pillows before sitting herself down next to a worn-looking Justin. Each moment she spent with him her concern increased. She knew something was wrong, and she hated more that her son wouldn't tell her what.

"Have you been getting enough sleep?" She asked, opening the conversation.

Justin smiled weakly at her. "Yes, Mom."

"You just... look so exhausted."

"I'm fine," he insisted, signaling to Jennifer that he definitely was not fine. She decided that now would be a good time to change the subject.

"I'm really happy for you, you know," she informed him.

"For what?"

She shrugged and smiled. "Everything, I suppose. You just seem to be getting your life in order. Going back to school, the movie possibility, Brian," she finished the list with a small smirk.

"What does Brian have to do with it?" Justin asked shortly.

"The two of you just seem like... I don't know... an actual couple. It's very sweet because I never thought I'd see then day when Brian looked at you the same way you've always looked at him."

This statement was the last straw. Justin could no longer hold back the tears he had been choking down the entire night, and honestly, he didn't care. The saltwater spilled over the brims of his eyes, and he had to put down his wine glass on the coffee table to keep his quaking hands from spilling the liquid. Jennifer put down her glass as well and scooted over on the couch to be close to her crying son.

"Justin, what's wrong? Honey?"

Justin, unwilling... incapable of lying anymore confessed what had been torturing him so much. "Brian... he has cancer."

"My God..." Jennifer muttered, at a loss for words. She felt the need to cradle her son, protect him, comfort him. But she knew he wouldn't let her. Instead, she waited for him to speak.

"I'm not supposed to know, though, Mom. I found out when a doctor from Johns Hopkins left a message on his machine while he was in the shower. I don't think he's ever planning on telling me."

"Has he actually told anyone?"

Justin shook his head. "No. And you can't tell him that you know, promise me you won't say anything to anyone."

"I promise, I promise," Jennifer assured her hysterical son. "Is he going to be okay?"

"I wouldn't know. I'm so scared, Mom, and how could he not tell me?"

"This is Brian we're talking about. He probably just thinks he can handle this on his own."

"I don't want him handling this on his own! I want to take care of him! I love him so much, I'd do anything for him."

Jennifer took Justin's hand and kissed it. "I know, sweetheart."

"I just... I don't know what to do for him. He's tired all the time since he got back and obviously in pain and it's killing me that I have to keep my mouth shut!"

"Why do you have to keep your mouth shut? Why don't you just tell him that you know?"

"Michael thinks that we shouldn't, that if he obviously doesn't want us to know, we shouldn't let him know we know."

Jennifer rolled her eyes and sighed. "That sounds like something Michael would say."

"Could we not turn this into a thing about Michael, please, Mom?"

"Of course, Justin, I'm sorry."

Justin shook his head. "You don't have to be sorry. I feel kinda stupid breaking down like this."

"Please don't," Jennifer insisted, taking her son's hands and giving them a tight squeeze. "You're being so strong for Brian and he doesn't even know it. I don't blame you at all for feeling so..."

"Fucked?"

"Exactly."

Justin cracked a slight smile for his mother before reclaiming one of his hands so as to wipe the tears that were drying on his cheeks. Jennifer used her free hand to do the same for her son. Her palm came to rest on Justin's flushed cheek as she rubbed her thumb gently over his warm skin.

"My boy," she cooed, "my sweet, brave boy."

"I don't feel so brave," Justin confessed.

"You are the bravest person I've ever met, Justin. Brian has no idea how lucky he is to have you."

Falling into his mother's embrace, Justin sighed heavily and allowed Jennifer to hold on to him. He enjoyed, even if it were only for a few fleeting moments, being vulnerable and not feeling so damn guilty about it. It was moments like this when he couldn't fathom words that could express that appreciation and love that he had for his mother. Her understanding, her compassion, her unconditional love.

Justin wanted nothing more than for Brian to know that this was this kind of love that Justin had for him.

ll

The lights of the familiar parking lot were dim, but not so dim that Justin couldn't see Brian turning back to smile at him as he walked away, toying with the white, silk scarf draped around his neck. He watched through the side view mirror and enjoyed the sight of his lover's light as air steps along the pavement. He bathed in Brian's elated glow and smiled, pleased with himself.

But then he saw him enter the view or the mirror, standing behind Brian with a baseball bat clutched tightly in his fist. Justin barely had time to react as he ran out of the jeep without thinking. His voice caught in his throat and he was unable to call out to Brian. The bat came up and down in a matter of seconds that felt like an eternity. And that sound. God! That sound of the bat whipping through the air before connecting with the back of Brian's head. And he fell to the floor, his blood splattering onto the pavement.

Hobbs turned around and smiled, obviating his satisfaction with the situation. Justin watched him, too terrified to move, terrified that Hobbs would come after him too. His legs screamed for him to run to Brian, to save him, but his body remained stagnant.

Shrugging, Hobbs tossed the bat onto the ground, turned around, and left the lot muttering, "fucking faggots." Justin, finally able to move, ran to Brian and pulled his limp body into his arms. Blood from the wound on the back of his head seeped into Justin's tuxedo as he tried to find some sign of life. There were none. Brian was gone, and it was all his fault.

He lost his everything.

ll

Brian was startled awake by the whimpers and slight tossing of his sleeping lover. He couldn't make out the words that were being moaned from Justin's lips, but he was familiar with the situation. After the bashing, when Justin had first moved in, this happened often, almost every night for three months. Eventually, they became more and more infrequent, and soon they disappeared altogether. The doctors had said that it wasn't unusual for an individual to have such "night terrors" after a traumatic experience like the one Justin endured, but Brian was led to believe that they were done.

Obviously not.

Breathing deeply, Brian sat up in bed and fell easily into the routine of calming Justin during such an episode. Gently, he put his hands on Justin's shoulders and applied a slight pressure to try and wake him without startling him. As usual, Justin started awake despite Brian's efforts and shot up. Still half-asleep, tears flooded his eyes when he looked at Brian, and his hands absently grabbed for the comfort of his lover.

Wrapping his arms around Justin, Brian pulled him close. He felt his frightened partner convulsing against his body as his hands traveled over Brian's bare chest, searching for something he could hold on to. Brian's hands rubbed Justin's back in soothing circles as he tried to calm him.

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay, Justin, you're okay," was his mantra. Slowly but surely, Justin's heartbeat began to return to its normal rate. He stopped hyperventilating, and his convulsions came to a minimal shaking. What was left of the episode was Justin's whimpering into Brian's arms and he held on as if his life depended on it.

"I thought-" he choked out the words, "I thought I lost you."

This was new, Brian noted to himself. "I'm right here," he told a shivering Justin, "I'm not going anywhere."

They sat in the bed with Justin tightly wrapped in Brian's embrace for what felt like a very long time. Knowing it was the best way of calming and comforting him, Brian allowed Justin to stay in such a position for as long as he needed to. They were quiet, the only sounds coming from Justin's shallow breaths and Brian's soft, tranquil exhalations.

The more Justin came to, the guiltier he felt about what was happening. It was he who should be cradling his sick lover in his arms; instead, as always, Brian had to be the grown-up. Brian took on all of the responsibility for Justin despite his own discomfort. He had barely gotten out of surgery before once again allowing Justin to lean on him completely.

It made Justin hate him a little bit.

It made him hate Brian for his inability to be vulnerable the way Justin always ended up being vulnerable to him. After he had cut off his ties from Cody, Justin realized that part of the reason he had become so militant was not prove himself to the homophobes, or Hobbs, or even to himself, but to show Brian that he could be strong. Brian's secretiveness also infuriated Justin because of Brian's lack of responsibility for himself. For not allowing anyone to take care of him when he needed it, though he would never admit it, especially because he wouldn't admit it.

"Do you want a glass of water?" Brian asked, breaking another long silence.

Justin shook his head as he shook himself free of Brian's embrace. "No. I'm fine," he lied simply because he didn't want Brian getting out of bed.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Brian! You don't have to treat me like a child!"

Brian looked hurt by his lover's harsh tone and shrugged nonchalantly. "All right."

Justin felt horrible. "No, Brian, I'm sorry," he said, resting his palms on Brian's bare chest. His hands slowly traveled up over his skin until they were resting on the sides of his face. Justin kissed his lips.

"I love you so much, Brian."

He smiled and placed his hands over Justin's. "I know."

"I'd do anything for you, do you know that?"

Brian didn't respond. Justin could guess what he was thinking and he made it obvious that the answer was 'no,' despite the fact that he was nodding weakly.

"Why don't we try to get back to sleep, hm?"

Justin's heart was sinking again. He felt it breaking down through the pit of his stomach until it completely broke free of his body and dropped to the floor. Just when he thought he was all cried out, the familiar burning sensation returned in his throat, making him unable to speak; instead, he closed his eyes and nodded, allowing Brian to pull him down into a lying position. It wasn't even five minutes before Brian was asleep, the sound of his shallow breathing being the only thing of which Justin was aware.

ll

"Now why don't you get your ass back into bed you son-of-a-bitch? And eat some fucking chicken soup!"

The words resonated in Brian's ears and suddenly, it all occurred to him. He felt like he had been punched in the face with this information: he was an idiot. Not just an idiot, but an asshole as well. He though that he kind of always knew that what he was doing, trying to run, trying to hide, was stupid, but it took Justin's throwing it in his face to make him really understand just how idiotic he was.

And what could he possibly say to such powerful, loving words. Nothing. And that's just what he said as he relented and climbed into bed. His whole body ached and he was afraid that he might vomit again. The spot where he had fallen, though he had not fallen hard, still hurt him when Justin came over with a steaming bowl of Debbie's chicken soup.

"Now eat it," Justin commanded, handing Brian a spoon.

Brian took the utensil and pushed around the bits of chicken and vegetables floating in the broth. Taking some of the hot liquid in the spoon, Brian brought it up to his lips and sipped on it, careful not to burn his tongue. He looked up at Justin, who looked extremely pleased with himself. Though he was sure that the soup tasted good, as Debbie's, and even Justin's, cooking always did, all Brian could feel was nauseated. His stomach turned the moment that the broth slid down his throat, and he dropped the spoon into the bowl.

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? You just did."

"I mean I can't. If I... if I eat anymore, I'm gonna puke," Brian confessed, hating that this is what it had come to. "Satisfied?"

Justin's understanding eyes suddenly flashed with all the resentment that he had been feeling in the past few weeks. "How can you... no, how dare you even ask me that? As if- what?- I'm enjoying it. Like it's easy for me to see you hurting?"

Brian shook his head and sighed. This is exactly what he did not want happening. "No. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Brian," Justin explained. "Just be well."

"I'm trying," Brian admitted as he lied down, attempting desperately to keep his stomach from feeling any sort of movement. He was tired of feeling nauseous; he was tired of being sick; he was tired of being tired; he was tired of feeling so damn helpless; but most of all, he was just tired.

"I think I'm just gonna... rest my eyes for a while."

Justin smiled, nodded. "Okay. I'll be here."

Brian, unable to reach all the way up to Justin's face, rested his hand on his lover's knee. "I know you will."

ll

Forty-five minutes later. Brian was up and hovering over the toilet. Justin stood beside him, his hand gently resting on his back. When he was finished, Brian flushed the toilet and slumped against the sink. When Justin reached to turn on the water for him, he snapped.

"I can do it!" He insisted. "I don't need to be treated like a child."

Justin shook his head. "Goddamn it, Brian. Don't you get yet that it's not about that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm going to tell you this once, so are you listening to me? I need you to listen to me."

Brian softened, realizing that he was already falling back into the same mistakes. "Yeah, I'm listening."

"You can let me be here for you. Every time I try to get close, to take care of you, not out of pity or responsibility, but out of love, you push me away. So just let me be here for you, Brian. You can be vulnerable and hurting and weak in front of me and I'll still be here to take care of you. Please, need something from me. I just want you well. That's all."

Brian nodded slowly, his head still spinning a bit. "Okay. I'll make a deal with you then."

"All right," Justin said skeptically.

"If I need help, then I promise that I'll ask for it. If I need it. If not, I want you to not treat me like an infant. To let me take care of myself a little bit too, so I can know I'm not dying," Brian explained. "Deal?"

Justin smiled and stroked Brian's hair. "Yeah, it's a deal."

Brian rinsed his mouth out and tossed a few handfuls of cool water on his face while Justin watched wordlessly. He allowed his lover to hand him a towel to dry his face. Still exhausted, Brian thought it would be a good idea to try and get some more sleep so he walked to his bed and collapsed into it. Pulling his head onto a pillow, he wrapped the covers around himself. Justin crawled carefully onto the bed so that he was sitting beside him.

"I'm gonna stay," Justin told him, making a point of not asking permission. "I just need to use your computer to work on something for school."

"No," Brian said almost at a whisper.

"No? I can't use your computer?"

"No, I want you to stay here."

Justin nodded though Brian's back was facing him. "I am. I said I'm staying."

"I mean I want you to stay hear with me," he told him, using his last bit of strength to roll over and face Justin. "I need you to stay here with me."

Justin, understanding now and more than happy to oblige, smiled at Brian as he lied down beside him. "Of course," he said, wrapping his arm around Brian's tired body, "I'll be right here."

The hint of a smile was on Brian's face as he drifted off to a peaceful sleep, secure in Justin's arms. And for the first time in weeks, Justin, too, felt at peace.

END


End file.
